“Are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself, Tina?” my best friend, Alexis, asks for the millionth time, and I can almost see the apologetic pout on her face.
“Oh my God, Lex, for the last time, yes!” I say into the receiver, sounding as exasperated as I feel. I know she’s trying to be thoughtful and probably feels guilty that I’m at home by myself tonight, but her empathy is starting to sound a lot like pity; something I can honestly do without, especially today.
It’s Valentine’s Day.
It’s also my birthday.
You would think that I’d be having the time of my life right now, enjoying double the fun and double the gifts and flowers and chocolate and booze, but here I am, in front of my computer screen in my dorm room by myself because everyone else I know—including my highly eccentric mother—is either already on a date, or getting ready for one.
“Now, go or you’ll be late for your concert,” I say. “I don’t want to give Allen any more reasons to side-eye me,” I add with a sardonic grin, even though I’m serious.
Lexi’s boyfriend, Allen, isn’t exactly my biggest fan. On more than one occasion, he’s clearly made it known that he doesn’t care too much for me, or my prominent presence in Lexi’s life, which is complete horseshit considering I’ve known her for years and we were friends way before he ever came into the picture.
Then again, I suppose the feeling is mutual. I can’t stand the asshat, and frankly, just from our few brief encounters, I really don’t get what she sees in him, but I’m not about to bring it up again, especially considering that conversation—if you can even call it that—didn’t go so well the first and only time I did.
Besides, she says he makes her happy so I just roll with it and do my best to ignore the douche whenever I see him.
He’s taking her to a sold-out, exclusive Bon Jovi concert tonight, and I won’t lie, I’m jealous, and I wish it were me she was going with. That’s definitely one way normal people would spend their twenty-first birthdays; not laying on their bed in a dark room that’s illuminated only by the fluorescent glow their laptop screen.
“Alright, alright,” she finally relents with a sigh of her own. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“‘Kay, have fun,” I say before hanging up.
Another sigh on my part.
“This is officially the lamest twenty-first birthday in history,” I mutter to myself.
I hate Valentine’s Day. I wish I could say that this is an anomaly, but this happens every single year.
Every. Single. Year!
I’m probably that one person in the world who detests their own birthday.
I breathe out an uninterested sigh again, clicking away on my laptop as I continue to idly surf the net and listen to random stations on Pandora so I don’t lose my mind from boredom.
Just then, I hear a beep, and there’s a notification on the screen.
My breathing immediately picks up, and my heart thuds in my chest at the sound, and I hastily click on the icon.
My eyes go wide despite the bright light, and my heart skips several beats as I open it up and see the sender’s name.
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